Robert Salvatore: The Silent Blade

And now, by not letting Drizzt die in such a manner, he had proven it again.

"He'll not bother you ever again," Jarlaxle remarked, drawing Drizzt from his contemplation.

"So I dared to hope once before."

"But now it is settled," the mercenary leader explained. "Artemis Entreri has his answer, and though it is not what he had hoped it will suffice."

Drizzt considered it for a moment then nodded, hoping Jarlaxle, who seemed to understand so very much about everyone, was right yet again.

"Your friends await you in the village," Jarlaxle explained. "And it was no easy task getting them to go there and wait. I feared that I would taste the axe of Bruenor Battlehammer, and given the fate of Matron Baenre, that I did not wish at all."

"But you persuaded them without injuring any of them," Drizzt said.

"I gave you my word, and that word I honor. . sometimes."

Now Drizzt, despite himself, couldn't hold back a grin. "Perhaps, then, I owe you yet again."

"Future favors?"

"Forget it."

"Surrender the panther then," Jarlaxle teased. "How I would love to have Guenhwyvar at my side!"

Drizzt understood that the mercenary was just teasing, that his promise concerning the panther, too, would hold. "Already you will have to look over your shoulder as I come for the crystal shard," the ranger replied. "If you take the cat, I will not only have to retrieve her but will have to kill you, as well."

Those words surely raised the eyebrows of Rai'gy as he came onto the top of the stairs, but the two were merely bantering. Drizzt would not come for Crenshinibon, and Jarlaxle would not take the panther.

Their business was completed.

Drizzt left the crystalline tower then to rejoin his friends, all together and waiting for him in the village, unharmed as Jarlaxle had promised.

After many tears and many hugs they left the village. But they did not go straight to the waiting Bottom Feeder but rather, back up the ridge.

The crystalline tower was gone. Jarlaxle and the other drow were gone. Entreri was gone.

"Good enough for them, if they bring the foul artifact back to yer old home and it brings all the ceiling down atop 'em!" Bruenor snorted. "Good enough for them!"

"And now we need not go to Cadderly," Catti-brie said. "Where then?"

"Wulfgar?" Regis reminded.

Drizzt paused a moment to consider Jarlaxle's words-trustworthy words-about their missing friend. He shook his head. It wasn't time for that road just yet. "We have the whole world open before us," he said. "And any direction will prove as good as another."

"And now we don't have the damned crystal shard bringing monsters in on us at every turn," Catti-brie noted.

"Won't be as much fun then," said Bruenor.

And off they went to catch the sunset … or the sunrise.

Back in Calimport Artemis Entreri, possibly the most powerful man on the streets, mulled over the titanic events of the last days, the amazing twists and turns his life's road had shown him.

Drizzt Do'Urden was dead, he believed, and by his hand, though he had not proven the stronger.

Or hadn't he? For wasn't it Entreri, and not Drizzt, who had befriended the more powerful allies?

Or did it even matter?

For the first time in many months a sincere smile found its way onto Artemis Entreri's face as he walked easily down Avenue Paradise, assured that none would dare move against him. He found the halfling door guards at the Copper Ante more than happy to see and admit him, and he found his way into Dondon's room without the slightest hindrance, without even questioning stares.

He emerged a short while later to find an angry Dwahvel waiting for him.

"You did it, didn't you?" she accused.

"It had to be done," was all Entreri bothered to reply, wiping his bloodstained dagger on the cloak of one of the guards flanking Dwahvel, as if daring them to make a move against him. They did not, of course, and Entreri moved unhindered to the outside door."Our arrangement is still in force?" he heard a plaintive Dwahvel call from behind. With a grin that nearly took in his ears, the ruler of House Basadoni left the inn.

Wulfgar left Delly Curtie that night, as he did every night, bottle in hand. He went down to the wharves where his newest drinking buddy, a man of some repute, waited for him.

"Wulfgar, my friend," Morik the Rogue said happily, taking the bottle and a deep, deep swallow of the burning liquid. "Is there anything that we two cannot accomplish together?"

Wulfgar considered the words with a dull smile. Indeed, they were the kings of Half Moon Street, the two men who rated deferential nods from everyone they passed, the two men in all of Luskan's belly who could part a crowd merely by walking through it.

Wulfgar took the bottle from Morik and, though it was more than half full, drained it in one swallow.

He just had to.